


Captivated

by Aeon_Borealis_Dreamer1



Category: Total Drama (Cartoon)
Genre: Drama, Drama & Romance, F/M, Total Drama World Tour, Total Drama: Revenge Of The Island
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-20
Updated: 2019-06-20
Packaged: 2020-05-15 11:51:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,575
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19295170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aeon_Borealis_Dreamer1/pseuds/Aeon_Borealis_Dreamer1
Summary: Alejandro's parents are in the midst of a nasty divorce. So, he and his mother have temporarily moved in with his older brother Carlos and his wife Athena in the small, nondescript town of Cress. To Alejandro's dismay, his older brother Jose is living there, too. Alejandro tries to find some reprieve by climbing the social ranks and flirting with pretty girls at school. But then he gets caught in the middle of Courtney's drama with Duncan and Gwen, starts up drama with the football team, and after his father gives him an all too tempting offer, locks horns with the queen bee Heather for the title of class president.





	Captivated

1: Welcome to Cress

:Alejandro:

Dark clouds rolled across the night sky and the howling wind dragged at the window shutters. Every time one of the shutters hit the side of the house, I wondered if I could sync up my heartbeat with the noise. Tap. Two seconds passed. TAP. Then my heart thumped. It was a crawling, sluggish beat across a big hollow drum. Such a somber sound.  
Jose would describe my internal monologue as needlessly dramatic, Mama would ‘encourage’ me to find a more constructive use for my time, and Papa would tell me to “man up” like he always does. It’s odd to think about. Almost everything I do, say, or muse about is followed by my rough assumption of what Jose, Mama, and Papa would think about the same thing or what comment they might make. The older I get, the more I wonder if I am as much my own person as I want to believe.  
I rolled over on the flimsy mattress and looked at the bed across the room from mine. There’s Jose’s sleeping form, barely covered by a thin blue quilt. He snored with the intensity and volume of a chorus of chain saws. Several loose strands of hair are plastered to his forehead and pillow with sweat. He used to be so particular about what length his hair was and strictly kept it very short.  
And he has so much stubble now. Band-aids with illustrations of dinosaurs and Disney characters haphazardly covered parts of his chin where he nicked himself with his razor. He used to have such a clean-shaven face. At one point he had bragged about wanting to try shaving the “old-fashioned way” with a real blade.  
The only logical conclusion I have been able to reach is that aliens abducted Jose and replaced him with this bum. They can keep him.  
***  
Carlos was married six months ago now and he didn’t tell anybody. I’ll never forgive him for keeping such a major milestone in his life a secret from me for so long.  
It’s surreal sitting across the long mahogany table from Athena, Carlos’ wife. She has short curly red hair, constellations of freckles across her pasty white skin, and a little pixie nose. Other than her physical appearance, the best way I can describe her is that she’s practically a fairy tale character brought to life: She likes to talk with her hands and use grand, whimsical hand gestures. Plus, she has a high-pitched voice and she’s followed by this strong, ever-present apple cinnamon smell.  
Tonight she made some kind of cheese-smothered box meal lasagna. Carlos was so proud, going on and on about how little experience she had cooking, how he cooked most of their meals, and how she was slowly but surely learning how to cook real food. Lovesick Carlos was being generous when he lavished praises generally reserved for a fine crème brulee on a basic pasta. Athena only made things more embarrassing when she openly admitted that her previous diet was a mix of Hot Pockets and other microwavable crap before Carlos “nudged” her towards learning to use an actual stove.  
Somehow, I managed to stomach it. I made myself shovel mouthful after mouthful of rubbery cheese into my maw because I love my older brother more than I hate cheap food. I’m expecting to spend most of tomorrow hunched over the porcelain throne as a result, though.  
I can learn to make excuses to escape Athena’s cooking. I can learn to deal with one eccentric, but well-meaning person because she genuinely makes Carlos happy. But then he stumbled into the dining room.  
Athena asked Jose how work went today. Jose mumbled something incoherent under his breath, spat a chewed-up wad of tobacco gum into a napkin, then unceremoniously plopped down into a chair across from me and planted a sneakered foot on the table top. He’s hunkered down in his thin-fabric windbreaker and trying to hide the bags under his eyes with the hood part of his maroon hoodie. With a tight-lipped frown, Athena placed a helping of her rubber lasagna in front of him.  
Jose grabbed it by the tips of his fork prongs and wolfed down the entire chunk of food within mere minutes. I looked down at my own generous helping, idly poking at the amorphous mass with my own fork. Then I looked back at Jose and can’t help the way my eye twitches or the intense urge to shoot my dear brother the iciest glare I can muster.  
Suddenly, Carlos grabbed me by the arm and ghosted me into the nearby hallway. He knitted his thick eyebrows together as his face morphed into that stern expression that used to be permanently plastered to Mama’s face.  
“Please. Try to be civil, Alejandro,” Carlos said with a deep sigh.  
“I am. He’s the one stumbling in like an uncultured barbarian...”  
“I know.” Carlos’ gaze trailed off for a second. Then he turned back towards me, pinning me with his dark eyes and making me hold his gaze. “Look. I’m not happy about our current situation but the way I see it, he’s my brother and he deserves time, space, and understanding while he sorts himself out. He’s acting like a rebellious teenager, yeah, but Athena and I decided we should pick our battles with him.”  
“So, he’s a charity case like Mama and I?” I couldn’t keep the biting edge out of my tone.  
Carlos glared at me. “You’re not a charity case. Never use that phrase around me again, got it?”  
“Seriously, Carlos. What could possibly be going wrong in the world of the high and mighty Jose Burromuertos?”  
“He lost his entire fortune and had to declare bankruptcy a few months ago,” Carlos replied with a heavy sigh.  
“So he squandered all his money. What an idiot. Everything played out exactly like Papa said it would...”  
Carlos’ eyes narrowed dangerously and his nostrils flared. There was a bull seeing red behind those eyes and he was visibly shaking as he tried to tamp down and contain his anger.  
“Ignacio officially disowned him about a week ago.”  
My blood suddenly ran cold and I could swear my pupils were the size of bowling balls.  
I felt like the world had broken and shattered beneath my booted feet. Papa was stern and he could be cruel. But, he would never. He couldn’t have. Even after Carlos ran away from home years ago, Papa never gave up on him. He even kept Carlos’ name on his official will. There was a trust fund Carlos could pull from at any time he wanted. And this was despite Carlos resisting Papa’s will at every turn and arguing furiously with him every chance he could.  
Jose was the model son. He’d always been the golden standard Papa and Mama both pointed at and harshly compared me to.  
Carlos found his voice again. “Jose is very aware of exactly how bad his situation is. We’ve had some very long, hard talks about this already. I’m actually trying to help him bounce back from this. Despite his appearance and behavior, he’s trying to bounce back from this, too. He needs all the support he can get right now.”  
There was silence for a long beat. I couldn’t think of anything particularly meaningful to say. This was enough to blunt my sharp-as-a-tack brain.  
Furrowing his brows, Carlos placed a hand on my shoulder and lightly squeezed. “Alejandro, be nice to Jose. If for no other reason, do it as a favor to me. We’re all in the same rickety boat right now and we’ll have much smoother sailing if you and Jose can get along for more than five minutes.”  
I tried to swallow the large lump in my throat.  
With that, Carlos lightly clapped my back, then gestured back towards the dining room.  
As I walked back in, I noticed Mama had decided to join everyone. She seated herself next to Jose of course. Since I had been shocked by him, I can only imagine what was running through her mind. Mama nervously adjusted and re-adjusted her pea-green shawl while tugging at the loose ringlets in her dyed pale blond hair. The tips of her hair were starting to turn light brown again. Considering our current situation, I wouldn’t be surprised if I see Mama with a head of graying hair within the next several months.  
“Is your room okay?” Carlos appeared beside her chair, lightly touching the curved back.  
“Yes, it’s fine,” she said with a dismissive wave. She purposefully turned her face away from him, trying to hide the way she was curling her bottom lip.  
The attempt was in vain. Carlos himself was biting his lip and, quite possibly, a snarky remark. Before the awkwardness escalated any further, Athena placed a plate in front of Mama with a meek smile and lightly pulled Carlos away to where they were seated.  
Mama critically eyed the lasagna for a long moment, then pushed the plate away and hurriedly stood back up. “I’m not hungry. Thank you, though.”  
She scurried out of the room as quickly as she could. Barely a minute after she left, Jose slid her plate towards him and devoured the lasagna with as much wolfish gusto as he had previously. I looked down at my plate for a moment, considered pulling a similar move with my food, and then sneaked a glance at Carlos and Athena. The two of them were speaking quietly and it seemed like Athena was on the verge of tears.  
Any mere mortal would be driven to the brink of insanity living with one Burromuerto, let alone three. With a deep sigh, I forced another forkful of the food into my mouth.  
Perhaps Athena’s cooking will finally help me overcome having such a sensitive stomach.  
***  
As much as I hated the prospect, Carlos was very firm about me getting a job. Athena is pregnant. Mama and I are tight on funds and allowed to live in Carlos’ respectable-sized townhouse rent-free. So it’s only fair that we pulled our weight somehow.  
To my chagrin, being a delivery driver at this hole-in-the-wall pizza restaurant Kelsey’s is the only job I’ve been able to find within the past month. I can and will find better but for now, this will do.  
About two hours into my shift, I’m already sick of the cheeky grinning rooster on the wall clock. A portly man stared at the menu with vacant eyes and drool collecting on his lower lip. The restaurant was pretty much deserted except for a stressed-out single mom and her babbling toddler. All I could think about is what kind of terror my future niece or nephew will be when I look at that little girl. She was peeling the wrappers off of crayons and ripping them into confetti strips. Then she placed those same crayons between her tiny knuckles and salivated all over each one. I’m going to have to clean up after that little monster. Ugh.  
The portly gentleman finally placed his order: two different pizzas with a series of ridiculously complex toppings. As if taking fifteen minutes to confirm his order wasn’t frustrating enough, he leaned over the counter and gawked at everyone on staff with this bizarre and intense I’ll-eat-you-alive-I’m-that-hungry expression. What made matters worse was how often he kept licking his lips. Dios, I can’t accurately describe the immense relief I felt when he finally took his pizzas and left.  
“That’s Don. He’s a regular,” someone said conversationally.  
One of my co-workers sidled up next to me. My day just became ironically brighter. She’s a cute Goth girl with shoulder-length multi-colored teal and blue hair.  
“He’s...something.” I tried to keep my eye from twitching too much.  
“He’s creepy, but not in a fun Tim Burton kind of way.” She laughed as she wiped her hands off on the front of our restaurant’s obnoxious orange uniform apron.  
“We’ve been taking bets on if he’s a stoner or mental ward escapee.” Another co-worker joined in on our conversation. He had a bright green Mohawk and several eyebrow piercings. I was mildly surprised he’s able to wear them while on shift.  
He leaned on the front counter and grinned obnoxiously. “My theory is Crazy Katie is his wife. She orders the exact same crap he does. Right down to the extra extra sausage and pineapple chunks.”  
“You have quite the background story for a complete stranger...” I chuckled softly.  
“Gotta do something to entertain ourselves around here,” Mohawk replied. “What else we gonna do? Clean?”  
“Speaking of...” The Goth girl pulled a questionable-looking yellow rag out of her apron pocket.  
“You get to clean the toilets!” Goth girl and Mohawk crowed at me with the same obnoxious gusto as a too-eager, slightly sadistic game show host.  
“Wait...I’m the delivery driver. Shouldn’t we-”  
Mohawk snagged the rag and shoved it in my face. “Sunday afternoons are dead, dude. Take all the time you need.”  
In a perfect world, I would find a way to turn this around and convince Mohawk to clean the bathrooms while I chatted up the Goth girl. Unfortunately, my efforts would be useless: Mohawk and Goth girl were the only two other employees, Mohawk was wearing an Assistant Manager tag, and the Goth girl had sneakily and flirtatiously shoved her hand in Mohawk’s back pocket.  
I took a deep breath. “Is there...better equipment I can use?”  
Mohawk cackled like a discount Saturday morning cartoon villain. “You got whatcha got in the broom closet.”  
“Alright.” I winced as I took the proffered rag and shuffled off to find the broom closet. My nostrils shriveled up as soon as I opened the door and a myriad of horrible, questionable scents drifted out. My stomach was cartwheeling as I dragged the scuffed-up mop bucket, dingy mop, and other assorted materials towards the tiny unisex bathroom.  
Mohawk whistled and I briefly turned to shoot a withering look at him. He winked and saluted in the most obnoxious way he could. Ice radiated up my spine as I remembered when Jose would make similar condescending and mean-spirited gestures at me.  
“Pendejo.” I tried to whisper the word as low as I could under my breath. It’d be difficult. Very difficult. But I have to keep my irrational anger in check. This guy is definitely a jerk, but he’s not anywhere close to the same level as Jose. He gives off schoolyard bully vibes not I’ll-ruin-your-life jackass vibes. I’ve tamed schoolyard bullies before. I can handle him.  
“What’d you just say?” Mohawk waltzed up to me with his fists on his hips.  
“Nothing. Nothing...”  
“I know you called me something.”  
“Hijueputa,”I spat at him with a big, churlish smirk.  
“Son of a bitch?” He was starting to grin now. “Is that the best you’ve got?”  
“I’ll refer to you as every nasty slur I know if you wish.”  
“Come on, dude.” He lightly clapped my shoulder. “Next time, it’s my turn to clean the shitter. I’m not a complete ass.”  
“I don’t know. You’re the spitting image of a burro to me.”  
At that, he started laughing and lightly punched my arm.  
“Look. I’ll sweeten the deal by throwing in a free pizza.”  
I grimaced. No thanks. I’ll take another rubbery lasagna from Athena before I’d ever consider eating the food here.  
Mohawk laughed again. “I hate the pizza here too. I only eat as much as I do cause it’s free.”  
I sighed heavily and made my way towards the bathroom. Smear-stained mirrors and pubic-hair covered toilet seats were quickly becoming more appealing than one more minute with the assistant manager’s awkward small talk.  
***  
The first day at my new school finally came. I was exhausted. Utterly exhausted. The entire weekend was a mix of avoiding Jose like the plague, stomaching as much of Athena’s terrible cooking as I could, and spending more time in bathrooms than I ever have in my life. The one highlight was that my supervisor at Kelsey’s was true to his word. After I swabbed the deck that afternoon, he took cleaning duty after a drunk stumbled in and...I really don’t want to entertain that mental image right now.  
Just as I was reliving that nightmare, I saw my coworkers hanging out in front of the massive blond brick school building. Duncan was shamelessly smoking a cigarette and had his free arm slung around Gwen’s shoulders. He made some kind of lewd, crass comment and she was laughing to the point of tears. Gwen was definitely head over heels for this loser for whatever reason. I suppose he has some kind of roguish charm or charisma to him. He’s certainly the classic definition of a bad boy type.  
Duncan looked up and caught me looking over at them. Then he waved lazily and gave me a cheeky monkey’s grin before immediately turning back to Gwen.  
I rolled my eyes and headed inside. Despite how I felt, I was hoping that I could revitalize my weary spirit in an environment I know how to sow and develop to my liking. Cress is a smaller city in the pocket of the larger, more glamorous New York City. It’s small enough to cultivate starry-eyed longing for something bigger and greater than small town life, but big enough to have a fairly diverse student population. There are the stereotypical cliques and hierarchy, but then there are the eccentric outliers. I already passed by one student outrageously confident enough to walk the school halls wearing a cape and Star Wars light saber. He was even accompanied by a fairly attractive redhead rocking an old-school librarian look.  
While I’m disappointed that the lovely Gwen was already taken, there are already plenty of other prospects hanging out in the front lobby alone. Excuse the inappropriate and archaic description, but I felt like a ravenous squid at a high-quality sushi bar.  
There was a shapely brunette girl wearing a knee-length tan skirt and matching platform boots chatting with a blond girl that had Sunglasses on her head and an old-school Hollywood aura about her. Another cute redhead with pigtails and big brown eyes was animatedly talking to a moony-eyed blond in a sweater and lavender tights. Before I could even decide what to do next, I was approached by a green-eyed blond with her hair tied back in a long ponytail.  
“Hey!” She seemed a bit sheepish as she extended her hand. “I’m Bridgette. Awkward question. Are you the new exchange student?”  
I put on my most charming smile and gently kissed her knuckles. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Alejandro.”  
“A-ah….” She blushed furiously as she took her hand away.  
“Excuse me for being so forward, but you’re very beautiful. I’m especially drawn to your eyes. They’re the same shade and color as jade.”  
“I-I have a boyfriend,” Bridgette squeaked. “I’m flattered, but...I have a boyfriend.”  
“He’s quite lucky to have you.” I smiled again and winked at her.  
Bridgette only managed a low, incomprehensible noise this time.  
Coincidentally, a lean and slightly muscled blond in a pink button-up shirt walked over to us at just the right moment. He had one arm draped around the true foreign exchange student and was fastening a gaudy button to the younger boy’s shirt. It had a poorly illustrated squirrel on the front.  
“And this is my lovely girlfriend-” The blond fellow stopped when he saw her beet-red face.  
As if directed by his sixth sense, he slowly turned his head towards me. I waved and gave a faux innocent smile as the gears slowly turned in his mind. Once everything clicked, one of his eyes started twitching slightly.  
“Are you okay, Geoff?” The exchange student lightly tugged at his light pink button-up shirt.  
“Just peachy,” Geoff replied through gritted teeth. Before the exchange student could prompt him again, he pulled away and adjusted the collar of his shirt as he cleared his throat.  
“Geoff...hey...” Bridgette looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.  
“Hey, are you another exchange student?” Geoff asked me, trying with some difficulty to keep his composure in tact.  
“No. I am a new student, though.” I shot my most oily smile at him. “Your girlfriend definitely gave me quite a warm welcome.”  
Bridgette’s blush intensified, Geoff became even more visibly furious, and the exchange student just looked baffled.  
“...can you help me find my locker?” The exchange student piped up.  
“Of course!” With that, Geoff made a very blatant display of slipping his arm around Bridgette’s waist and glaring daggers at me. “Bridgette and I are happy to help however we can!”  
“Hey, do you want to come, too?” The exchange student looked over at me expectantly. “Maybe we can help each other out.”  
It would be so fun to wind up Geoff a bit more and sneak in a few more comments to fluster Bridgette. Honestly, though, it’d be far more refreshing to flirt with someone more receptive and free right now. I’m itching for some witty banter or ego-boosting comments after the weekend I had.  
“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”  
Just for good measure, I winked again and blew a kiss to Bridgette when she sneaked one last look at me.  
While I wanted to try and flirt with one of the other girls in the lobby, I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them had witnessed that exchange and picked up on the tension. I probably already shot myself in the foot by being extra obnoxious. So I decided to venture a bit further into the school and see what else I could find in the forty minutes I had left to kill before classes started.  
***  
The library at Cress High was surprisingly large for a public school. There was an elegant domed ceiling, a computer lab with some of the highest-end computers and tablets on the market right now, and rows upon rows of books at least seven feet high. A short page wandered the aisles and there were step ladders in the middle of each aisle prompting students to ask the page for help in obtaining a book from one of the taller shelves.  
A few students were milling around the aisles or clumped around tables staring intently at smart phones. Considering the location and atmosphere, I was hoping to stumble across a shy violet with her nose stuck in a weighty tome somewhere around here. Instead, I found a stressed-out brunette in the middle of one of the aisles. She was surrounded by reams of “Vote Courtney” stickers, fliers, and buttons. All of the promotional materials were professionally done up with similar colors and theme to President Barack Obama’s well-known Hope poster.  
“Would you like some help?” I bent down and folded my arms on my knees.  
“Yes, please!” Courtney bellowed, her tone slightly strained. “At least there’s some helpful people around here...”  
I started scooping up some of the various materials and arranging them in appropriate piles.  
“So, I presume you are running for class president?”  
“Yes!” She beamed and her eyes lit up like a string of fairy lights. “I’m hoping this will finally be my year! I’ve been class treasurer for the past two years. It’d be nice if I got to be president for senior year, you know? It’d look so good on a college application!”  
“I certainly hope you win.”  
Let’s see if I can steer the conversation from fluffy yes-man compliments towards something else.  
“Thank you!” She was grinning ear to ear now. “I have so many new policies I want to put in place, too. Unlike the current president, the witch that shall not be named, I actually listen to people...”  
“Mm-hmmm.”  
“That b-I mean, witch, only wants the position because she can abuse her power to call in favors for friends. She’s such a bitch that that’s the only reason she even has friends. And, I mean, that’s the only reason I can conceivably see Lindsay, dumber than a sack of rocks Lindsay, of all people being captain of the Chess club. Or Dakota being able to start her weird retro fashion club...”  
Courtney went on like this for some time, complaining about other students I didn’t and may never know. The one element that caught my attention was her strange fixation on and utter hatred towards the current class president. The more mud-flinging she did, the more fascinated I was by who this witch was. I definitely needed to keep tabs on her if only to secure my own place in Cress High’s hierarchy.  
Courtney took a deep breath as she started, hopefully, coming down from her long-winded rant. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Courtney actually stopped to look at me. I turned towards her and held her gaze, trying to put on my most charming, heart-melting smile. Apparently, it was effective because she dropped all of the precious materials she’d been clinging to and absentmindedly reached up to touch her cheek.  
“You’re...you’re gorgeous...” She muttered.  
“And you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen at this school,” I replied, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “On top of that, you’re smart, ambitious, and you obviously care very deeply about the welfare of your fellow students.”  
Courtney sighed happily as she bit her lip. “Yeah. That’s all true.”  
“You’d do a fantastic job running this school,” I said in a dramatic stage whisper.  
“Keep telling me how great I am.” Her eyes were shimmering.  
“You’re a very capable, powerful woman. Seize the day!”  
“Yes!” She clenched her fists. “I’ll beat Heather this year. I can do it!”  
Suddenly, the bell rang and Courtney’s pupils shrank when she realized that she still had a mess to clean up. I sighed and rolled my eyes when she wasn’t looking then started shoveling miscellaneous materials into her backpack. She was gritting her teeth and stuffing everything back in with reckless abandon.  
“I can’t be late...I can’t be...” The poor girl uttered the words like a mantra.  
She was so caught up in her own thoughts, she snagged the last few things from my hand and took off like a rocket. So I was left sitting there on the carpeted floor with my mouth slightly agape. From what I can tell, I just served as faceless emotional support and it’d be very difficult to follow up with her now. No number. No date. Not even a loose thread for picking things up again later. Was I losing my game?  
***  
I refused to let Courtney deter me and had a few different phone numbers by lunchtime. Grinning, I scanned the lunchroom, hoping to find the cute dark-eyed, long lashes brunette I’d been chatting up all throughout English.  
To my surprise, someone grabbed my arm and whirled me around to face her. It was Courtney, lids lowered flirtatiously and light pink lip gloss applied to her lips. The color was garish but I was too excited by the underlying implications to care. Batting her eyelashes, Courtney walked two fingers up my chest and suggested going somewhere more private.  
To my further surprise, she dragged me to a little mom and pop sandwich shop and even offered to buy me a sub. That wheat and turkey sandwich was the best food I’ve had in about a week now. Dios, I had to restrain myself from tearing it apart like a ravenous, wild wolf. Courtney spent the entire time talking about herself and her grand goals, but I was more than happy to listen since she’d been generous enough to buy me something. There were even a few interesting and helpful nuggets sprinkled in about other students that I mentally filed away for later.  
Perhaps, Courtney is girlfriend material. It’s been awhile since I last seriously committed to someone. I still think about Gabriel ever so often and every time, I feel kind of sad. We honestly had a lot in common and gelled very well, but the physical attraction didn’t stick. He felt more like my platonic best friend than my boyfriend. I don’t have the most honest track record in regards to my love life but I will be merciful. There was no way I was going to string the poor fellow along.  
Between thoughts of Gabriel and staring longingly at Courtney’s lips, I decided to just wait and see how things progressed. Aggressive and assertive girls definitely hook me in faster than anyone else. I just need to make sure I don’t fall too hard too fast. It’s better that I be the one with a level head no matter how much of a romantic I am.  
Courtney folded up her napkin, tossed it in the nearest bin, and grabbed the collar of my shirt.  
“Let’s head back to my car.” It was a demand not a request.  
Minutes later, Courtney had pulled off under some trees at a nondescript park. She immediately snapped off her seatbelt and rolled on top of me, forced the seat back just under the windows, and wrapped her arms around my neck. She dived right in, her kisses as strong and powerful as she tried to present herself.  
About five minutes in, Courtney pulled away and gave me a very stern look.  
“Is something wrong?” My heart was already sinking to the pit of my stomach.  
“We’re going faster than I normally do...” She sighed, her face falling.  
“We can slow things down,” I assured her, even though my pounding heart and hormones screamed otherwise. “I honestly prefer to do some pretty extensive wining and dining before going too far. How about we head back to school for now and plan another date for later this week? I’d be more than happy to treat you next time.”  
Courtney sighed, then crawled off of me and back into the drivers’ seat. She folded her arms on the steering wheel and dipped her head forward, covering her face with a curtain of brown hair. The hopeless part of me noticed how the dappling sunlight painted yellow highlights across various strands and sections of her hair. It was an impromptu, natural halo.  
“Alejandro...I’m so sorry.”  
“What for?” I was trying to decide whether or not it’d be a good idea to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.  
“I just got out of a bad break-up.” She tilted her head and looked over at me through half-lidded eyes. “My ex cheated on me with my best friend and...I just. I’ve been trying so hard to keep it in. So hard.”  
“Oh, wow...I’m very sorry to hear that.”  
“When I saw you this morning, I had to have you. I was scared if I didn’t make a move right now you’d be snatched up by some other girl. But I think I moved too soon, you know?”  
I felt like I was being tugged in two different directions: one part was extremely sympathetic while the other wanted to crush cars with my bare fists. Before I acted too rashly, I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair. The better move here is to play the kind gentleman providing a shoulder to cry on. In a few days, I could collect myself and hopefully, make more meaningful progress with another one of my prospects.  
“You’re okay, Courtney. You’re in a lot of emotional pain right now and people act quite irrationally when they’re upset enough.” I tried to smile in a sweet, reassuring way. “Let’s just be friends for now. I’m happy to be someone to confide in for now. And when you’re up for it, we can try this again if you want to...”  
Courtney sniffed a few times while giving me the most pathetic look she could. She pulled a tissue out of her glove box, wiped her eyes and nose, then looked back at me with a strange determination in her eyes.  
“Promise me something, Alejandro?”  
“What is that?” A sense of dread crawled down my neck and I could feel the ghost of Courtney’s lips from a few minutes before.  
“When we become exclusive, you won’t ever cheat on me.” Her eyes were daggers, pinning me to the car seat.  
I swallowed hard and involuntarily raised my hands in an “I surrender” gesture. “Never.”  
“Good.” She nodded and readjusted herself.  
Then she spent an agonizing five minutes preening herself with the car mirror. Sweat raced down the back of my neck and I was imagining shackled wrists. If only I had another ride back to school.  
As Courtney drove back, she slipped back to her normal demeanor. She carried on a one-sided discussion about how she wanted to decorate the gym for the upcoming Homecoming dance. It took all my will power not to bash open the side door and take off at roadrunner speeds once we returned to school.  
“So...here’s my number,” Courtney said shyly, holding up her phone and showing me her details.  
Heart hammering in my chest, I took out my own phone and pretended to punch in her details.  
“Got it.”  
“Text me, okay?” She smiled sweetly and chuckled. “Walk me to class?”  
“I’m sorry, Courtney. I promised the science teacher I’d help set up his next presentation.”  
“Aw, you’re so sweet, Alejandro.” With that, she waved and took off for her next class.  
As shameful as this is for me to admit, I skipped my last class and spent thirty minutes splashing my face with water and mulling over my new Courtney situation. I even took the time to scrub at the lip gloss marks, but even after I’d wiped them off, I could still feel a lingering tingle. It was rare that a kiss came with such a heavy price tag attached.  
***  
On the way home, I grabbed a cheap greasy McDonald’s burger. Then I holed up in my room, or more specifically, the room I shared with Jose. I was so thankful he had an all-night shift at the gas station tonight.  
I wedged myself in the corner of the room wedged between my bed and the wall. Overflowing with shame, I reached into the paper bag and dug out the cancer-on-a-bun burger. My eyes started welling with frustrated tears as I tore off the thin yellow wrapper and took a big bite. No matter how much I thoroughly despised McDonald’s, it was still better and a quick, convenient substitute for Athena’s rubbery pasta.  
There was a knock at the bedroom door. My shoulders sagged and I closed my eyes, smiling wryly at the sliding lock on the door. Both that lock had been pulled across and Jose’s computer chair had been wedged under the knob.  
“Alejandro? It’s dinner time!” Carlos called out. “Mama and Athena are waiting.”  
“I have a big test tomorrow!” I called back as big fat embarrassing tears rolled down my cheeks. “I really need to study. I grabbed something on the way home so I could get right to it.”  
“Care to join us for a few minutes?” Carlos asked, slight concern in his voice.  
“It’s a test for French class.”  
There were a few beats of silence. Carlos was well aware of how infatuated I was with the French language. I remember gushing to him over the phone years ago about how desperately I wanted a chance to practice speaking and refining my so limited pool of knowledge on the subject. So, this was one of the few lies I knew I could successfully sell him on.  
Carlos let out a heavy sigh. “Alright. I hope you do well tomorrow.”  
I took another bite of the burger and sloppily swiped at my tears with one of the napkins in the bag. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get myself to finish the nightmare burger. It ended up in the trash along with the uneaten sugar-drenched fries once I threw myself back on the mattress. The smell lingered heavily in the air. My stomach churned and lurched, but I’ve been getting used to scents from the seventh level of hell over the past week.  
Jose had been dragging fast food home for the past week. Somehow, his diet had increased dramatically and the fellow that used to send well done steak back to the chef was shoveling down grease-soaked burgers every night. He was a very broken and defeated man, but he was too proud to express himself or talk things out. Instead, he was turning to fast food for...I don’t know. Comfort?  
I guess. I guess I was hoping that it might help me too. If one McDonald’s burger could fill the void growing in my stomach then I could easily balance it out with enough exercise and meditation later, right? I’ve been exercising, but my mind is too rattled to meditate lately.  
A few more tears rolled down my face when my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I scrubbed at my face, hating how gross and weak and utterly pathetic I felt. My heart sank to the toes of my boots when I glanced at the screen. But I steeled myself and answered anyway.  
“Hello Papa...” I managed, trying to sound more confident than I felt.  
“Hello Alejandro. I have a proposition for you.”  
“Yes…?” I felt so low right now it was hard to summon up any kind of reaction. All I knew was that he was about to dangle something in my face like a callous fisherman baits an unsuspecting worm. He’d always enjoyed pitting Jose and I against each other by offering exclusive opportunities like a chance to go to a prestigious private school in Paris or a violin lesson with the best violinist in the world. All it took was furthering our hatred for each other and achieving some arbitrary, petty goal that ultimately made Papa look better in the long run.  
“I remember how you used to go on and on about wanting to study architecture at the Pratt Institute...” Papa said with a certain smugness and satisfaction in his voice. What I imagined was an anthropomorphic cat with a wide, devilish grin full of sharp, glinting canines.  
“Yes?”  
“I’ll cover your full tuition if you get straight As this semester and become the president of at least two school clubs as well as earn the class president title overall.”  
A big lump formed in my throat as I shot a tired look at the architecture books lying at the base of my bed. Blueprints and pictures of beautiful, arcing Gothic cathedrals filled my mind’s eye. Drool collected on my bottom lip and I swallowed hard.  
“And you know what kinds of connections I have.” He chuckled softly. “I could set you up with a job right out of college.”  
My heart was stuck inside of a piano getting played by an insane pianist that kept pounding the pedals. Every heart beat was strained and painful as if my heart was set between a piano hammer and string.  
“What do you say, Alejandro?”  
He knew he had hooked me in. I was a helpless fish, desperately floundering about and trying to return to the placid waters below.  
“Yes.” I swallowed hard. “Yes, I’ll do it.”


End file.
